Squib
by Lefting
Summary: Taking place during the Deathly Hallows, it appears that Severus Snape has more family members alive than he presumed and that when she arrives Astoria is hiding something from them all. Epilogue compliant Draco/Astoria. UNFINISHED


_Taking place during the Deathly Hallows, it appears that Severus Snape has more family members alive than he presumed and that when she arrives Astoria is hiding something from them all. Epilogue compliant Draco/Astoria. T for language._

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If there was ever a time when the war was going to end badly, this was it. The fate of the wizarding world - no, the _entire_ world - rested in the hands of three foolish, teenage Gryffindors who were marauding around the country doing Merlin along knew what. And Snape thought it was bad when Dumbledore was in control.

There was a single afternoon before Hogwarts would once again be flooded by snivelling, whining brats who the teaching staff would attempt to educate. There would be, ensuing this, the chaos and havoc that dwelled wherever there was a single teenager, never mind the hundreds that populated Hogwarts for the majority of the year.

And Snape just _knew_ that this year would be the worst yet. The Golden Trio may have finally been out of his hair - and a year early! - but it seemed that Longbottom had finally found a backbone, the loony daughter of Lovegood had managed to find the right end of her wand and the youngest Weasley brat had fallen in love with the boy hero and would defend his name with her life. Anything else? Oh, yes. How could he forget? There would also be two death eaters teaching this year. As if his life wasn't complicated enough.

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose tightly and only spared Dumbledore's portrait a brief glare, too infuriated to watch his predecessor's knowing smile. Damn the man for putting on that stupid ring. Damn the man for making him kill him. Damn the world just for being.

A nondescript uniform brown ministry owl flew in one of the windows and dumped a few more letters onto his ever-growing pile. If Snape could thank Voldemort for one thing it was the fact that no one ever sent Snape howlers anymore, for fear of enraging the dark lord. Ignoring the bird, who hooted stuffily, Snape took one glance at the letters and, seeing that they were addressed from the Department of Family Welfare, ripped them in half and banished them to the bin. Snape didn't have a family – he didn't need irritating leaflets about how best to organise his time between work and family. Like he'd need them even if he _did_ have a family.

Slowly working his way through the pile of letters that was constantly being added to Snape felt like, for the first time in his life, being Potions Master was actually quite a nice job. Better than headmaster. Now he still had to deal with irritating I-know-nothing-but-think-I-know-everything teenagers but had no time to continue his potions' research.

Needless to say that, after two and a half weeks of sorting through pointless letters, arguing with the staff over where this year's funds should go and trying to deal with the mess that Peeves left behind him, Snape was in a mood that was blacker and fouler than it had been in a while. Which, considering what he'd been through over the past couple of years, really was saying something.

Luckily the train arrived on time, the house elves had dinner prepared and none of the firsties drowned on their way up to the school. And no one made an entrance such as Potter and Weasley's during their second year. The sorting was as boring and tedious as it was every year, though Snape made no attempt to hide the sick delight he found in seeing the absolute terror on all of the eleven year olds' faces under his deathly glare. When everyone was sat down Snape didn't bother to say anything, even to warn the first years to stay out of the Forbidden Forest. You'd have thought that they could work out by its name not to go there.

The food appeared on everyone's plates as it always did, the first years gasped as they always did and conversation bubbled up... just as it always did. Snape sneered across the hall for the benefit of anyone still watching and then turned to his own dinner. The house elves were a miserable lot, but they didn't half make good food.

Then, of course, about an hour or so after the first carriage arrived and just as everyone was tucking into dessert, the evening went to pits.

Her entrance, when properly considered from an unbiased point of view, was as memorable and impressive as the intruder Moody's had been. When it actually happened Snape was too shocked and angry to do anything but yell right back at her – after checking that all of his teaching staff were present and accounted for, of course.

The huge double doors were flung open and they crashed with surprising force against the walls to reveal a soaking wet, furiously angry teenage girl whose expression could have only matched Snape's more if she had been surprised and had his hook nose. She had the same pale skin tone, though hers was less sallow and she had the same, hooded eyes and high, princely forehead that Snape had inherited from his mother. Her eyes were as black as his and her hair was long, black and deadly straight.

'Hello beloved Cousin,' she snarled through clenched teeth, eyes narrowing ever more. 'Care if I crash your lovely little homecoming party with my dreaded presence?' She dropped the large duffle bag that had been slung over her shoulder and it landed with a thump that seemed entirely too heavy for its size.

'Who the hell are you?' Snape snarled back, his tone just as dark, but without the biting sarcasm in hers.

The girl flung her head back and laughed a humourless, terrible laugh. 'Oh, how _encouraging_!' she sing-songed spitefully. 'But then, no one ever knows who I am, so why should I be surprised, even if he was sent multiple letters _warning_ him of my arrival,' she spoke, seemingly to no one, before her tone hardened and her eyes pierced into his again. 'Three _fucking_ hours, Severus Snape. One hundred and eighty _fucking_ minutes stood in the bloody rain, waiting at least for an owl to tell me to buggar off. But _nooo_, that stick's shoved so far up your arse you couldn't even be bothered to tell me to get lost. Do you know how hard it is to find this castle? A huge bloody castle and it is next to impossible to find!' She was yelling now and, under the circumstances Snape really couldn't blame himself for what happened next.

'SHUT UP!' he yelled, silencing her with a slashing movement of the wand that had found its way to his hand. Then his voice went deadly quiet. 'I don't care who you think you are, but you are to leave these premises immediately. If you do not I will be forced to remove you.' He released her tongue but the girl only stared defiantly up at him.

She stood for a long time just staring until she replied, in a voice like a bullet, 'bloody fucking wanker.' Then she picked up her bag, turned on her heel and left.

As soon as she was gone the entire hall burst into noise, the reactions varying from table to table. The Slytherins were furious for the sake of their ex-head of house, the Gryffindors were laughing their asses off, the Hufflepuffs seemed worried about something and the Ravenclaws were a mixture of all three. Snape sneered at the Hall and, with all his usual grace, got up and left the room in a swirl of black cloak.

It wasn't until he was in the privacy of his own room that Snape that back to the girl's opening line; _Hello beloved Cousin_. Snape pinched the bridge of his nose and prepared for bed. So far as he knew Snape had no living relatives. His father had had a brother who had died alone well over ten years ago and his mother had been an only child. The only reasoning he could come up with was that 'cousin' was actually just a shortened version of something horrendously long and complicated including lots of 'in-law's and 'second-'s and 'twice removed's. Or the girl had just been plain lying. Damn. He didn't even know her name.

Snape restrained from pinching the bridge of his nose and resolved, instead, to search the matter the following day. Or, preferably, the following week once the bouts of home sickness and getting lost had passed. So, ignoring the fact that he had maybe just chucked his only remaining family member out in the street, Snape rolled over and went to sleep, damning the world as he did so.

Of course, when one most hopes for sleep is when one is least likely of getting it. Snape was woken by the school wards at some time between three and four am. Cussing more violently than he usually did in the mornings Snape dragged himself up and, seeing that it wasn't anything to be too worried about – just a blip – got dressed before going to investigate.

What he found naturally made him wish that he'd been a little faster getting down there. The girl who had looked so alike to him was sitting with her back against the Hogwarts' gates, her bag propped up beside her. That, in itself, was worrying. What was more worrying was the fact that her lips appeared to be blue and she was shaking like a leaf. Snape swore again before levitating both her and her bag and moving them towards the hospital wing.

The door banged open with rather more force than he had intended, but it woke Madame Pomfrey and alerted her to the situation. Snape moved the girl to a bed and lowered her with rather less care than perhaps she deserved, but he couldn't be bothered to care right now.

'First case of homesickness already, Severus? Dear me! And you bringing the student yourself, you really oughtn't – oh,' the mediwitch stopped, pausing only a moment before springing in to action, the first of which being to push Snape out of the way. 'What in Merlin's name happened here? Poor girl is suffering from hyperthermia!'

As if he didn't already know that.

'She looks very familiar – is she a relative of yours, Severus?'

'She called me 'cousin', but I can't testify to the truth of that remark,' Snape managed to grind out.

'Well, nothing that a couple of potions and good twenty-four hours sleep can't handle,' Poppy informed him. 'Now, are you going to explain this, or am I going to have to force it out of you?'

Snape sent her his best death glare. It didn't do any good, of course. The dragon lady of the hospital wing had long since become accustomed to his glares and insults and brushed them off with more ease than Dumbledore himself had. And, of course, she knew exactly how to get information out of him. Snape had already discovered the hard way not to – ever – cross Poppy Pomfrey. She and she alone believed that Snape really hadn't turned over to the dark side.

Slowly, with much reluctance, Snape filled her in with what happened in the Great Hall the previous evening. Once he was finished with the story Poppy wacked him on the head, tutted, and told him to go through all of the previous day's mail until he found the letter to which the girl had been referring to.

'We need to know who she is and why she's here, if nothing else,' she told him sternly.

Feeling increasingly like a scolded, petulant school boy Snape stalked out of the hospital wing and headed back up to Dumbledore's – no, _his_ – office.

There had been an awful lot of mail. Too much of it. By the time Snape managed to find the appropriate letters the sun had already crested the horizon and the first of the students were starting to stir. Thoroughly fed up and irritated, Snape tore open the envelope and began to read.

_Dear sir,_

_It is with our deepest regrets that we must inform you of the death of your uncle, a Mr C Prince and his wife. They have left no Will, but family tradition dictates that it should go to the closest living male heir; yourself. They have also left behind a daughter, a Miss A Prince, who shall be left in your custody until such time that she comes of age. Her parents expressed only the wish that she be properly educated._

_Please find enclosed a list of personal details, a copy of your new inheritance and a personal letter from Miss Prince. If you could please reply as soon as you receive this letter the Department of Family Welfare would be much obliged._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Bernard Fillus_

In a combination of angry, confused and intrigued Snape took up the next letter, which had been tied to it and had **Personal Details** stamped on the cover. Ripping it open he found three, neatly folded sheets of parchment that he took out and studied.

_Mr Charles Prince_

_5__th__ December 1947 – 15__th__ August 1999_

_Parents: Mr Leonard Prince and Mrs Janet Prince nee Géoffré_

_Sibling(s): Mrs Eileen Snape nee Prince (disowned)_

_Educated for seven years at Durmstrang receiving average grades in all subjects except Potions which he excelled in._

_Married Miss Clarisse Tunningham 1971-1977 (ended in Mrs Prince's death)_

_Married Miss Melody VonBeale 1979_

_Children: Miss Astoria Prince born to his second wife 1980_

Snape gazed in astonishment at the sheet of paper that told him of an Uncle he had never known he had. But, looking at the birth date Snape soon realised why. This 'Uncle Charles' was born the year after his mother had been disowned. Snape daren't think too long on that subject. Instead he turned to the names of the women the Uncle had married. First there was Tunningham – a prestigious, if slightly unreliable American family that, like the Malfoys and the Blacks, was well known for its prejudice against anything but purebloods. Then there was Miss Von Beale. Snape vaguely recalled the name coming up once or twice in conversation with Lucius Malfoy – he knew it to, again, be a pure blooded family and from the sounds of it German, but to his best knowledge the line had died out a few years ago with the death of the only remaining heir. Apparently he had been wrong.

Ignoring Mrs Prince's details Snape instead turned straight to her daughter's.

_Miss Astoria Prince_

_19__th__ November 1980 – present day_

_Parents: Mr Charles Prince and Mrs Melody Prince nee VonBeale_

_Sibling(s): none_

_Homeschooled_

And that was all there was. It gave Snape absolutely no knew information about the girl, except her birth date. Trying very, very hard not to loose his irritation and break something Snape reached for the next letter, the one addressed to him in loopy, delicate handwriting that was quite obviously feminine.

_Dear Severus Snape,_

_I have been informed upon my parents' deaths that it is to you that I am to receive sanctuary. Whilst it is against my wishes considering that in the muggle world I am of age and in the wizarding world shall become an adult in under three months I shall respect the wishes of those who believe they know what is best for me._

_I am of the belief that you are the headmaster of the wizarding school, Hogwarts and that term begins on the first September. The ministry will not give me any details on how to get there, but I trust that you will be able to forward details. If not then I shall be waiting outside the ministry's public entrance at one o'clock on September 1__st__._

_For the detail of my education there is an important factor of my well-being that no one but my parents is aware of. As it is rather an embarrassing aspect it is my wish that I talk to you of it in private, away from prying eyes and ears._

_If you are at all worried about the cost of my living, I have inherited the VonBeale fortune from my mother's side and am perfectly capable of paying my own way. _

_Best wishes,_

_Astoria Prince_

Snape winced. Damn. No wonder she had been furious the previous evening. But that's what happens when you presume someone receives your mail. Though it had come through the ministry, so maybe they had told her that they had been sent a reply from him? The whole thing seemed rather... sweep it under the carpet, sort of thing. Snape could only reason that it was because it was linked to him and everyone in the wizarding world in their right mind hated him right about now.

But this detail about her education was strange. Although some of the poorer wizarding families homeschooled it was quite rare for the richer ones to – it was a thing of pride. Although most purebloods were loathe to send their children to a school open to all sorts of 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors' it was almost... dishonourable to say that their child had been homeschooled – as if they weren't good enough.

Snape wondered what the little detail his cousin was talking about was. It was probably something benign, like she thought it beneath her to be taught in a classroom of other kids, or she had a lower level of intelligence than most. But her letter indicated that was not the case. Huh. Maybe someone else had written it for her?

Realising that it was past seven and that breakfast would be served Snape hurried down to the Great Hall, in desperate need of a cup of tea and some marmalade on toast. The students seemed to have bounced back from last nights display and only a few of the Gryffindors still tittered at him when he walked in – that was soon sorted by a steely glare. Munching on his toast Snape quickly drew up a schedule for his wayward cousin, ginving her all the basic lessons and then advanced Potions and Arithmancy. Potions was a skill that all Princes' were born with and Arithmancy would quickly show Snape just how smart his cousin was.

After the usual horde of owls flew in and the tedious procedure of handing out all the timetables was over and done with Snape give an abrupt introduction of the Carrows to the students and then swept out of the room to head down to the dungeons. This year he and Horace Slughorn would be sharing Potions lessons – Merlin alone knew why, Snape had enough on his hands, without taking lessons as well. He absolutely refused to admit that the lessons would be welcome relief, especially as he was only taking those sixth and seventh years who had proved they weren't complete morons.

The first day, despite Snape's early morning escapade, went as smoothly as possible. Seventeen out of the forty-six new students managed to get lost and three ended up in the infirmary with bouts of homesickness. They all, however, found their way to the Great Hall for both Lunch and Dinner with perfect ease. At least it seemed they had no problem following their noses.

Snape went to sleep earlier that night for the soul reason that his cousin would need to be briefed before breakfast and that may take a lot of time. So, promptly at six o'clock the following morning after having his full eight hours sleep that he had been deprived of the previous day Snape went down, once again, to the Hospital Wing. He entered Poppy's domain with some trepidation, but soon relaxed when he found her waiting for him with a smile on her face.

'She has recovered fully from her hypothermia and will be capable of attending lessons today, but Severus I must request that you be... sensitive around her. Please remember that both of her parents just died.'

Snape nodded curtly and made his way over to the girl's bed.

Astoria was awake and alert as he entered and she had seen the quiet word the mediwitch had had with him, although what had been said she didn't know. Seeing her cousin approach her she took a deep breath before willing herself to Do the Right Thing.

'Mr Snape, I must apologise for my display the other evening. You must understand that I was under quite a lot of emotional duress,' she winced. Had she really yelled at her only living relative in front of his entire school? He may have deserved it, but that was no excuse.

'Apology accepted,' Snape responded. Seeing Poppy's furious gaze he went on. 'I find that I too, must offer an apology. In spite of your rather...public display I had no right to chuck you out. Hogwarts should be a place of sanctuary for all.'

'All _magic_ folk,' Astoria muttered under her breath. Snape ignored that comment as it seemed to make no sense.

'I have drawn up a schedule for you. I took the liberty of giving you two advanced classes – Potions and Arithmancy. As you are homeschooled I hope I am not presumptuous in saying that you are well versed in magic?'

'Well versed, sure,' Astoria replied in the same, disgruntled voice. There was a flash of – uncertainty? Hesitation? – something in her eyes, but it was quickly pushed back down and Snape chose to ignore it. Nerves, that's all it was.

Astoria opened her mouth to say something else, but Snape spoke up, 'you have been sorted into Slytherin by default, simply because both myself and my mother, your aunt, were in Slytherin. You shall have your own rooms close to the Slytherin dormitories and I shall see to it that you are allowed out of school on Hogsmeade weekends.'

'Severus – may I call you Severus? – I have to ask... I have to know why I was left standing in the rain for three hours yesterday. It's exceedingly difficult to find Hogwarts, even if you aren't a – I mean, even if you _are_ a witch.'

'The letter you and the ministry sent only arrived yesterday afternoon at which time I was busy ensuring that the school was ready for the arrival. I apologise for that, as well. I would have come if I had known. As my cousin I will permit the use of my first name. As your headteacher and professor I will not.'

'Would you?' the girl asked, her eyebrows raised. 'No matter,' she said brushing it off. 'Are my things in my room?'

Snape nodded. 'In your letter you mentioned something that may impact your education?'

Astoria smiled a little nervously at him. 'It's – it's nothing. If it becomes an issue I will let you know.'

As he'd guessed – it was nothing. And now the girl was rethinking telling him – good. Conversation showed that she was not an idiot and, despite her display the other evening, was actually quite well-mannered young lady. 'Miss Prince, if you'd like to follow me and I will show you you're new rooms.'

'Astoria. If I'm to call you Professor while you teach me, then you are to call me Astoria when you are not,' her tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an edge of almost pleading that he might refer to her on more familiar terms. Snape supposed that was usual, for someone whose parents had just died and left them in the custody of an unwilling cousin.

'Very well... Astoria,' he acquiesced. The smile he got in return was, possibly, worth it.

When the two cousins entered the Great Hall for breakfast after visiting Astoria's new rooms it seemed that, for once, the entire school was in time for breakfast. And so they all, naturally, fell absolutely silent.

'Miss Prince, the Slytherin table,' Snape said, gesturing towards the green and silver decorated table and its students. 'You will report to my office as four pm sharp so that we can supply you with school books and robes. Do not be late.' Then he stalked up to the staff table and started his daily search for marmalade and teabags, ignoring the curious looks of both students and staff.

Astoria, for her part, looked nothing but at home. Perfectly trained pureblood heiress she walked gracefully around the tables before asking an aristocratic blonde if the seat next to him was free.

'Feel free,' the boy invited reluctantly.

Looking around her Astoria spared her new housemates a winning smile, designed to hold the perfect amount of nervousness and superiority. Astoria was born to be Slytherin. 'Name's Astoria Prince,' she introduced herself to the blonde, who appeared to be the leader of the group, if all the looks heading in his direction was any indication.

'Draco Malfoy,' he replied – no, _drawled_. 'This is Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bullstrode, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. But shouldn't you be sitting at _that _end of the table?' he asked, pointing down to the end closest the staff where the first years were sat.

'And I thought Slytherins were supposed to be courteous to all except blood scum,' Astoria said lightly, helping herself to toast and ignoring the accusatory looks the others were sending. But, at her words, there was a slight chuckle from one of the boys – Nott, was it?

'Blood scum. Now there's a good one.'

Astoria held her expression as best she could, despite her distaste. All her life acting like she hated muggleborns and halfbloods. Huh. Like she _cared_. They were just people; they weren't of any consequence – not to her.

'Who are you?' the blonde asked, narrowing his eyes.

Astoria stared at him like he was crazy. 'Astoria Prince. I've told you this.'

'Our esteemed headmaster is the last of the Princes. So unless you're his spawn and changed your name you are lying to us,' the pug faced girl, Pansy, said.

'My cousin's mother was cut off from the family following her marriage to a _muggle_. Her parents, disgusted by their only child's behaviour, resolved to have another child. A year later my father, Charles Prince was born. Neither he nor his sister knew or the other's existence. I did not know until two weeks ago when it was revealed that my father's fortune would not go to me, but to him.'

At the word 'fortune' everyone's ears perked up. It was well known that the Princes were, as well as purebloods, stinking rich. Everyone had assumed that the fortune had passed to Eileen, and then her son. Apparently, now, it had. But Snape had no heir of his own, so surely that fortune would then, on his death, pass to this strange girl?

'And your mother?' Malfoy drawled.

Astoria sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, not realising quite how much like Snape she looked when she did. 'My mother was the last of the VonBeale's she 'disappeared' and the magical community presumed her dead. And now she is. Her fortune passed to me.'

There was a collective gasp from around the table. This girl, strange as she may be, was the heiress for millions, maybe even billions of galleons worth of property, shares and money.

'Got your attention, did I?' she asked wearily.

'I think you achieved that the other night with your rather dramatic entrance,' a black-skinned boy said cheerfully, sticking his hand out over the butter and shook hers energetically. 'Name's Blaise, if you missed it earlier. Just so you're aware – Draco's a prat, Vincent and Greg are thugs, Nott's got no heart, Pansy's a gold digger, Millie's a little dim and I–' he gazed at his friends dolefully, '–am a Gryffindor wannabe – apparently!'

Blaise cheery introductions got everyone started. Millicent strongly denied the 'little dim' comment, but everyone else seemed happy enough with their descriptions, the only ones not introducing themselves were 'the thugs' who only nodded once and spent the rest of breakfast watching Astoria through narrowed eyes.

Watching their interactions Astoria soon figured out that 'Millie' and Blaise were a couple and that she really wasn't that dim, it was just the teasing between the two that could ever call her that. Nott and Pansy also seemed to kind of... affinity towards each other; the phrase 'friends with benefits' practically scrawled over their heads in the air. Crabbe and Goyle seemed hostile – at best – towards everyone and Draco... well Draco was much like Astoria, in many ways. Although the group seemed to revolve around him he said little and they occasionally sent untrusting gazes in his direction. Astoria made a mental not to ask him more about it... later.

After what seemed like far too short a time the students all stood to leave.

'Draco,' Astoria said before he could leave. 'I have advanced Arithmancy first period, would you care to show me the way?'

The blonde glared, but nodded. He had the same lesson.

As it turned out Draco had all the same lessons with Astoria. Advanced Arithmancy, Muggle Studies (that was now compulsory for the entire school) Transfiguration, Charms, Lunch and then, alternately, double Advanced Potions or a double free period. For the first three days Draco said nothing to Astoria other than 'yes' or 'no' or 'piss off' until, on the first Friday of term he asked her what the hell her problem was and why wouldn't she leave him alone.

'Well, excuse me if I only know seven students, two of whom hate me,' Astoria had replied icily.

'Crabbe and Goyle hate everyone,' Draco spat back. 'And why the hell don't you ever do magic?'

Astoria's eyes widened almost imperceptibly and her heart started going double speed. 'Huh?' she asked.

'You know all the shit that the professors are trying to teach us, but you never actually use magic,' he said in an accusing, violent tone. 'What's wrong with you? Is ickle Prince-y a moron?'

'You have no idea what you're talking about,' Astoria hissed vehemently at him before turning away with a swish of her new school robes.

It took him all of Saturday to work it out. He was the only one, really, who would have noticed. The teachers were too distracted to notice that whenever they did 'hands on' material in class Astoria never did it. All they knew was that she always handed her assignments in on time and they were always perfect. And Astoria never had lessons with other students frequently enough for them to notice – either that or they did notice and didn't care.

Astoria was in her room, at her desk, when the furious banging started at her door. A little alarmed she opened the door to see an equally furious Malfoy, his red face going surprisingly well with his blonde hair. Silently she tugged him into the room and slammed the door shut. Her cousin had placed silencing wards on it and no one could open it without the password or her acceptance.

'What the fuck are you doing at Hogwarts?' was the first thing that burst from Draco's mouth. Then there was a very long, very painful silence during which Astoria sat down on the end of her bed and Draco stood facing her, glaring expectantly.

Astoria glowered back at him, saying finally. 'Would you please get to the point and leave so that I might pack my things in peace and quiet.'

'You're a _muggle_,' Draco hissed, as if it was poison on his tongue. 'I don't know how you fooled them all, especially your 'cousin', but – what?!' he yelled the last.

Astoria, upon hearing his accusation, had burst into laughter. Desperate, slightly insane laughter, but gleeful nonetheless. 'A muggle?' she said between giggles.

'Quit laughing! I'm serious! You can't do magic, you're a muggle!' Draco said, almost petulantly.

'Oh Draco, dear, you are hilarious,' Astoria choked, wiping tears from her eyes.

'Prove me wrong then,' he spat, obviously distasteful towards being called 'dear'. 'Get out your wand and do some magic.'

Astoria's good mood couldn't entirely be spoilt. She held no doubt that Draco would come to the bottom of it, but he'd given her a good giggle first. 'Oh, I can't,' she assured him.

'But then you're a muggle!'

Dear _Merlin_ but the boy was slow. 'Draco. I am who I say I am. Severus is my cousin. Eileen Prince was my Aunt. I am a pureblood. I just can't do magic.'

'A squib?' he cried out in surprise.

Astoria winced. And there it was. Poor, pitiful, pureblood Astoria, who couldn't even get a spark to shoot out of a stick of wood.

'Shit,' he said.

'Uh-huh,' Astoria replied. 'Now why don't you run along and tell my darling cousin and I'll start packing, hmm?'

Why he stayed, she couldn't say. Maybe there was some kind of hollowness in her tone that prevailed upon him to stay. Either way, when Astoria felt the bed sink slightly from another weight sitting next to her and a hesitant hand on her shoulder she nearly jumped out of her skin.

'What's it like?' he asked.

'Like?' Astoria asked him incredulously, looking up into his bottomless grey eyes. 'It's like standing in the middle of a party and watching everyone dance and do incredible, fantastic things, whilst your stuck in a little bubble in the middle, forever watching the merry-making, but never allowed to join in. It's like being given a miraculous toy and finding that a vital piece is broken.'

'Is that what you think? That you're broken?' he wondered allowed.

'Aren't I? I have the looks, the fortune, the intelligence. If my parents were muggle, I'd have it all. But they weren't and I don't. I'd give everything away in a heartbeat – all that money and good looks – just to be able to do magic. For a week, for a day.'

There. It was in the open. Astoria had laid her heart out on the ground for this boy. And now she waited with eerie patience for him to step forward and grind it into the floor with the ball of his foot.

'But you can do Arithmancy,' he protested, trying to reason with himself, more than her. 'And you're bloody brilliant at Potions.'

'Neither subject uses magic – at least not to a grand extent,' she reminded him, almost gently. Leading him toward her heart ever so carefully, waiting for him to realise.

Draco looked almost scared when he said, his final protest, 'but you're pureblood.'

Astoria didn't even say anything to that one, just raised her eyebrows.

Then it was done. He was gone, flying out of the door and leaving it banging in his wake. Astoria winced, but allowed her feelings no more expression than that. After all, it had happened before and would doubtless happen again at some point. In the meantime she would pack up her things and talk to her mother's financial advisor to see which of her estates was the furthest away from any wizarding population and the most comfortable. Then she'd settle down into the life of a recluse that she had always known she was heading for. She couldn't live as a muggle knowing what she knew.

It took her half an hour for Astoria to have all of her things packed. She didn't bring much with her. Then she sat down and continued her homework. It might be pointless, but it seemed like good courtesy to her professors if she at least finished the work she had been set whilst she was there.

It took another hour for Snape to appear in her door, spitting and furious.

'A squib?!' he roared. 'That's your unimportant little detail to do with your education?! A magical education and you can't do magic!'

Astoria sighed and picked up the scrolls of homework she had finished, she handed them to him and he took them absently. Then she picked up her duffel bag asked him politely if he would be so kind as to excuse her.

'No, I will not!' he snarled furiously.

Finally Astoria's temper snapped. 'Why not? As you have made clear I can not stay here. I'm sure Draco had a lovely time explaining it to you whilst barfing, but now if you would get the hell out of my way so that I can stop deluding myself and get on with my life,' she shouted at him.

'Sit down and shut up!' he shouted back, not giving her a choice in the matter. 'I have had quite enough of you doing whatever the hell you like, Miss Prince. You never out any effort into your lessons and never participate in class.' Astoria itched to point out that was because she _couldn't_, but she was still silenced. 'I offered you sanctuary here under that understanding that you would put your whole into the magical community, and I learn instead that you have lied and deceived not only me, but my colleagues and all the other students at this school,' Snape said coldly, not looking at her and not noticing the hot tears that slid down her cheeks. 'I am severely disappointed in you and have to wonder how you ever thought you'd get away with it.'

Then he released her from the silencing charm and waited for her reply, only slightly alarmed by her tears.

'Get away with it,' Astoria repeated in a tone so resigned and empty it seemed to echo. 'Is it some sort of crime, then, to be magically inept? But no, it doesn't matter, does it? Because being born to muggles is a crime, to you people, too. I've lived with this my entire life; forever having my father's disapproving looks to deal with and my mothers boundless pity. I know they loved me, but hell! They could have said it, or shown it once in a while. Instead they made me feel like shit every single day of my life. You'd think I'd be used to it by now.

'I can't say that when they said you were headmaster here I didn't hope that – maybe – there was a chance for me. If I could just get away with being knowledgeable, rather than actually doing the magic... I'd have to skip the practical exams, of course, but who cared? Because I know it all. I know what you're supposed to say, and what things do and how you're supposed to move the wand. And it's all so _pointless_. Because I'm never going to be able to put it to practical use.

'I'm like a disease. No one'll touch me, in case they get my 'squib-ness'. So I'm sorry if I tricked and lied and deceived you, your colleagues and the students. I'm sorry if I've been an inconvenience in anyway, professor. Now, if you'd be so kind as to let me up so that I can walk away from it all.'

Snape was torn. On the one hand he should let her pass. She couldn't stay at Hogwarts, that was for sure. But, on the other... where was she to go? She was in his custody now. He'd find a private tutor and she'd stay here.

'You will stay here,' he decided.

'And face the humiliation that is sure to greet me every time I go to a meal? No, thank you, professor. Whether you stop me now or not, know that even without magic I will escape you. And when I do you won't find me again. Let's instead part in good faith?' she was pleading with him, really, by this point.

Snape considered for a moment. 'Where will you live?'

Knowing, now, that she was winning, Astoria told him about her inheritance of her mother's fortune, determinedly ignoring the twanging in her chest that said that she was, again, unwanted.

Finally Snape agreed. 'But you are to hire a tutor who will inform me of your progress once a month. You yourself will write once a week.'

'Only if you reply to every letter,' Astoria countered.

Something akin to amusement glinted in Snape's eye when she said that. 'Very well,' he agreed.

And so she left.

It didn't take long for her to find a suitable estate. It was far enough from both muggle and wizarding society that Astoria would be happy with it, and close enough that if she ran into any problems she would be able find help. It took little longer than that to find a pair of tutors – one of whom Snape knew about, teaching a combination of magic and muggle subjects and another whom Snape was ignorant to, teaching Astoria the art of protecting herself and others without magic.

The house was more of a manor and there were two house elves who had been charged with its upkeep and were delighted by 'mistress Astoria' and her return to the home – even though she had never been there before and did not recognise them.

Four weeks later, at the end of September, Astoria was surprised by something she had never thought would happen. A hawk owl that Astoria did not recognise swept in and presented Astoria with three letters before nipping her affectionately, if a bit hard, on the wrist. Two of the letters had her cousin's now familiar scrawl addressed one to her and one to her tutor, but the other she did not recognise. Picking up the letter opener and slicing it open, Astoria traced her finger over her name once before pulling the letter out.

_Astoria, _it read,

_After a few weeks deliberating I find myself needing to apologise to you. Blaise, Millie and even Pansy grew quite attached to you during the four days you spent in their company and blame me of your disappearance. They know of your... disability, but unlike me seemed to have taken it in their stride. Blaise, I'm sure, couldn't care less, whether you were squib, werewolf or even vampire, so long as you're a nice person. His description of Pansy that first morning – 'Gold digger' – is the reason to her impartiality. Millie said, 'um, duh!' when I told her. _

_Myself, I have to admit – though you must swear never to tell – that I have missed your presence, even though it was only for a few days and irritated the hell out of me. _

_But I'm trying to apologise._

_I'm sorry I'm an unfeeling ass._

_Actually, no, I'm not, but I am sorry that got you expelled. When I told him Snape was furious and I hate to subject anyone but Gryffindors to that fury – and they're practically immune to it by now anyway. He seemed in a better mood when he returned. I can only assume that you came up with a really, really good excuse or Snape killed you. I hope he hasn't killed you, because it would be a little weird, considering I'm writing to you._

_Anyway, could you please write back, at least to the others so that they know you're still alive. I'm getting quite tired of their accusing glares._

_Sincerely,_

_Draco Malfoy_

'Oh,' Astoria said. Well. That was... more than a little odd. Still, in between learning the exact points on the human body where, if touched, cause instant death and brewing the draft of the living death there really wasn't much to do. So Astoria decided to reply.

_Draco,_

_Snape killed me. Isn't that obvious? Nothing but that could _possibly_ give my esteemed cousin pleasure. Oh, but I forget. You're Death Eaters. _His_ minions. You eat death for breakfast. Tell me, does it taste nice?_

_

* * *

_

Written: 5th March 2009  
Chances of continuation: nil

Feel free to use this piece of writing for whatever the hell you want, so long as you credit me (either this account or my main one - Calistabelle) and let me know what you do with it.

Much love,  
Cal


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